Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

Meow!!

The ram stretched out its head and let out a pitiful cry, while its limbs began to struggle violently again, but the slaves did not let it move an inch, and slammed the hammer heavily onto the trap again. The sudden squeeze brought intense pain, causing it to convulse all over.

With each hammer blow, one after another, as if to smash the organ into a pulp, the slaves showed no mercy. The ram, meanwhile, continued to squeal loudly and energetically, its cries, accompanied by the hammering, sounding like a strange melody, as if it were trying to protest something.

The slaves became increasingly adept at smashing the goat, their hammers swung with tremendous force. Screams of agony followed one after another, and they finally stopped after dozens of blows. They released the goat, watching it limp and try to escape.

But of course, that was impossible. A strong slave grabbed its horns and forcibly dragged the fat ram into the sheepfold... or perhaps it should be called a castrated ram.

The slaves, drenched in sweat, had no time to rest. The sonic boom from the whips cutting through the air jolted them into action as if doused with cold water, and soon another striking, strong ram was dragged out.

The ram, bewildered and offering only slight resistance, was dragged to this place. Even though the cries of its kind had been echoing in the air, it still couldn't understand its current situation until the intense pain struck, at which point it instinctively began to struggle.

Although there is no bloodshed, this scene always sends chills down one's spine...

A loud horn suddenly sounded, followed by the thunderous sound of horses' hooves. A cry of alarm, like a thunderclap, suddenly rang out from among all the working slaves, growing louder and louder.

Although they still held tightly to the ram, the slaves couldn't help but glance curiously at the end of the road... Just one glance, and their hands involuntarily loosened, and their legs began to tremble.

The ram that they had captured seized the opportunity to get up quickly, trembling as it tried to escape, but was still grabbed by both horns by a slave who had regained his senses, and could not break free at all.

A vast array of flags appeared at the end of the road, various flags of hundred-person teams and squads fluttering in the wind. Among them, the most eye-catching was a majestic black banner with a golden double-headed eagle surveying the surroundings, its sharp talons gripping the banner's crossbar tightly. Golden and blood-red tassels and ribbons danced in the wind.

Beneath the flagpole, countless sharp spears stretched out, their gleaming tips like an endless expanse of shimmering river water. The knights' scarlet helmet plumes danced with the gallop of their warhorses, and the bright helmets and brass components, along with their gleaming, sturdy armor, exuded a chilling aura in the sunlight.

The shoulders of their magnificent warhorses were as tall as a man, and their hooves were as big as bowls. Their powerful muscles twitched beneath their smooth, silky coats, and their long, thick necks would occasionally lift slightly, causing their trimmed manes to ripple like water.

A steel torrent of elite heavy cavalry poured down from the end of the road, carrying an aura that seemed intent on tearing everything apart and crushing everything in its path. Just hearing the thunderous sound of hooves pounding the ground and the creaking of armor was enough to send shivers down one's spine and prevent any thought of resistance.

The cavalrymen passed by them with cold pride, not even glancing at the slaves with their helmets, while the slaves immediately bowed respectfully, almost touching their knees, waiting for these esteemed masters to leave.

As the sound of hooves faded into the distance, before they could even catch their breath, they heard the supervising official reprimand them:

"You lowly bastards, bow now!"

Before the slaves could react, the master they were talking about had already put away his whip and bowed respectfully, even lower than usual...

A series of footsteps, though not exactly orderly, were quite rhythmic. The gleam of armor at the end of the road caught their eyes. The infantrymen wore fine chainmail, helmets with nose guards, shields on their backs, and various main weapons such as spears and axes on their shoulders, with short hammers and swords hanging at their waists.

The crossbowmen carrying heavy crossbows on their shoulders were dressed similarly, also carrying shields and short weapons at their waists, except they had two bags of short, thick crossbow bolts.

Each of them was incredibly agile, with a healthy rosy complexion and thick, glossy hair. In addition to their weapons, they carried food bags, water bottles, short pickaxes, axes, daggers, and other essential items for marching and setting up camp, yet none of this made them seem sluggish.

What puzzled the slaves was that as these elite legionary soldiers passed by, many of them would look at them with a strange gaze... as if they were reminiscing about something, but they did not stop and firmly followed the pace of the column.

Their centurions and captains led their soldiers in orderly columns, clearing a path through which wagons carrying various supplies passed, slowly advancing under the soldiers' protection.

Finally, a group of somewhat strange legionary archers arrived. Many of them had their own mounts, but few actually rode them. Most of them would put all sorts of odds and ends on the backs of mules and tugs of the horse, then pull them along by the reins.

They carried longbows made of yew wood on their backs, two large bags of arrows at their waists and backs, and wore chainmail and helmets, with leggings on their feet. Their red jackets, headscarves, and inner linings were all in the style of legionary soldiers, but there was always something incongruous about it...

When everyone saw the furs being transported on the backs of their mules, they understood where the incongruity came from... Their attire was exactly the same as that of the hunters living in the mountains, all leading a mule to transport their produce to the city to exchange for what they needed.

But these archers were noticeably different; their marching pace and speed were surprisingly orderly. Although they looked around curiously, no one dared to speak loudly, maintaining a proper level of order throughout.

A magnificent black warhorse appeared on the road, drawing gasps of amazement from everyone—no one had ever seen such a fine horse. Compared to it, even the steeds ridden by wealthy merchants could only be seen as skinny donkeys.

The general on horseback wore a distinctive eagle-feathered helmet with a long red plume that reached all the way to the middle of the helmet. The gilded steel visor exuded a cold and imposing aura.

Everyone realized that this was the general leading the legion, an extremely noble person... Some slaves had already prostrated themselves on the ground, not daring to look up, and even the fierce-looking overseers lowered their heads deeply with fawning smiles.

………………

Thesolius tapped his fingers lightly on the leather of the saddle, then suddenly turned to look behind him. A drowsy Tarina rode behind him on a gentle ponies.

"Doctor, are they castrating a ram?"

Tarina glanced to the side with a puzzled look, her expression immediately changing. She hesitated for a moment before saying something:

"Sir...they are castrating those rams."

"This is the first time I've seen this method. I originally thought castration involved surgery."

The slaves were driven to work again, and as they swung their hammers, the bleating of rams could be heard. It was a huge pasture with thousands of goats and sheep of all colors and sizes roaming around.

The slaves would then seize the strongest rams among them, drag them outside, and begin to smash them with hammers, clamping them in wooden clips.

"There are indeed such castration methods..."

Tarina tapped her chin with her slender fingers:

“But castration with a knife is not something an ordinary person can do. You can’t sever important blood vessels, and you have to be quick. Otherwise, if the wound is exposed for too long, the animal will die.”

As she spoke, the girl glanced again at the slaves swinging their hammers, and a slight smile appeared on her lips:

"But this method won't break the skin or cause bleeding, and it's very easy to do. All you need to do is know how to swing a hammer. Even a slave who knows nothing can do it. It just causes the livestock a lot of pain, and it takes several people to hold them down."

Tesorius nodded in agreement:

"I think it will not only cause pain to the livestock, but also make the viewers uncomfortable..."

Soldiers passing by would show discomfort on their faces when they saw this scene, especially since the goat's monotonous and loud screams, after a while, had a strange rhythm, like a worm crawling into one's chest, making one feel uncomfortable all over.

Tersolius dispelled the chill in his heart, put the goat's bleating to the back of his mind, and continued along the smooth, wide road of the empire. They could already see the city in the distance.

“We will stay in this city for one night. If nothing unexpected happens, the city lord should have already marked out an area for us to set up camp outside the city, and had the advance troops erect walls and dig trenches there... Remember, everything is done according to the marching regulations. I don’t want anyone to let their guard down.”

The messenger cavalryman immediately spurred his horse through the passage left in the middle. Because of prior preparation, he passed through most of the troops without any hindrance and delivered the order to the front of the troops in the blink of an eye.

The army marched forward without pause, brazenly traversing the wide roads between towns and villages, allowing countless people to witness their progress.

………………

Labufia was exceptionally lively today. The city streets were swept clean by the residents early in the morning, and everyone excitedly changed into the clothes they would only wear to festival celebrations and gathered in front of the city gates.

The towns of the empire are the most distinctive of all the nations. As early as the time of the Six Kings, this land was filled with war and conquest. This fertile and rich land is like a large chest of undisguised gold, attracting every greedy eye.

But no one could completely occupy this land. Although it was fertile and rich, it was indefensible. Taking over a region was not difficult, but holding it was incredibly difficult. In this brutal war, everyone instinctively began to build sturdy cities. Even if they could not seize more land, they could at least rely on strong fortifications to defend what they had.

For this reason, the war technology of this land developed rapidly. The imperial people were skilled in building cities and roads, and could build a fortress and city with complete defensive functions in a few years. They were also good at destroying cities, and their terrible heavy machinery could bring devastating blows to the city walls.

To counter these siege weapons, cities built increasingly thick and sophisticated structures. Meanwhile, the siege weapons themselves became ever larger, heavier, and incredibly powerful.

It is through this constant competition that the empire of today has come to be, firmly occupying the most fertile central plains and possessing immense wealth and national power.

The walls of Labufia were built 78 years ago and remain sturdy and intact to this day, without any leaks or weak points, protecting the city from wind, rain, and external enemies.

Suddenly, a horn sounded, and the city's citizens were surprised to see the city lord's entourage appear at the city gate. The guards dispersed the crowd, placed the lord's flag and flagpole in front of the city gate, and cleared a space there.

What's even more surprising is that the city's master, that bloated middle-aged man, is actually wearing a heavy suit of armor... Although the weight of the thick chainmail and the outer lamellar vest is distributed over his entire body, this pampered man is clearly struggling to bear it, with sweat constantly dripping from his forehead, which he can only wipe away with a cloth again and again.

The helmet he wore was inlaid with gold and jewels, clearly the work of a master craftsman, but it served only a decorative purpose on his head. The sturdy steel was no longer used to deflect swords and arrows, but was polished to a shine, displaying wealth and authority.

…………

Just as everyone was drowsy from the sun, the city lord, who was already swaying and about to lose his balance, finally heard a voice as beautiful as heavenly music:

"They're here! They're here!"

Chapter 86 Imperial People (4)

When the black banner came into view, everyone became extremely attentive. The elite cavalry, surging in like a tidal wave, carried a terrifying aura, causing everyone to instinctively retreat. Even the city lord's guards showed signs of panic, and some even instinctively drew their swords.

The captain of the guard immediately realized what was happening and loudly reprimanded his foolish men, ordering them to put away their swords.

Drawing a sword when meeting a general could be considered an act of treason, and if the cavalry dragged them out and beheaded, no one could say anything; only the city lord could save them.

But their city lord… The captain sighed helplessly. Their city lord had never been brave at all, never interested in hunting, the sport most favored by the imperial nobles. His greatest hobby was hiding in the backyard of the city lord's mansion, reading and drinking tea alone. Even a vicious dog could terrify him.

In contrast, it was the city lord's wife, a woman, who was more courageous. She always helped him make up his mind at crucial moments. It was better to rely on the city lord's wife to come in handy at those times than to hope that the city lord could step in front of that famous general to protect them.

His fine armor was crafted by the most skilled artisans, but apart from the moment he received it, it had been kept on a shelf for the rest of the time. Every day, his servants maintained it with oil and fine linen. Only today did he hurriedly put it on, but because of his weight gain, he couldn't even fasten the armor straps properly, making it look somewhat loose and sloppy.

Almost everyone was so nervous that their legs went weak. Amidst the billowing dust and the shouts of men and the neighing of horses, the cavalrymen stood in orderly rows on both sides of the road, coldly scrutinizing them all.

As the crisp, heavy sound of hooves came from the center, a tall figure riding a magnificent warhorse approached the city. The magnificent and extraordinary winged helmet drew gasps of astonishment from the surrounding imperial people. The thick, dense armor on his body reflected the sunlight, making it almost impossible to look directly at him.

His towering figure and equally magnificent warhorse made him appear as majestic as a demon, while the city lord, standing trembling before the city gate, looked comical and ridiculous in comparison.

When the general looked down at him, it was as if an eagle was looking down at a short, fat chicken. The cold pride was more unbearable than swords, and his back seemed to bend involuntarily.

………………

Thesolius reached down and unfastened the leather buckle on his chin, slowly removing his helmet from his neck to reveal his sharp and heroic face.

His freshly washed hair looked loose and smooth. This was his first public appearance in the Empire since the war. Although scars and frost were a warrior's honor, he didn't want to look unkempt. A sharpened dagger and some toiletries from the doctor would solve all his problems.

After giving the portly middle-aged man in front of him a quick glance, Tersolius nimbly dismounted, his iron boots kicking up a cloud of dust on the ground.

“It’s been a long time, Lord Trollope. I never expected our second meeting to take this form.”

The moment the other man spoke, Trollope felt a chill run down his spine, and his undershirt was instantly soaked with sweat. He frantically tried to recall where he had first met this renowned general, so he could respond to his question.

Unfortunately, the more anxious he became, the harder it seemed for his brain to function. Poor Lord, even sweat was pouring down his forehead, trickling through the gaps in his helmet and onto his face, washing away the dust and leaving his cheeks looking dirty.

Just as all the onlookers were wondering why the city lord had suddenly fallen silent, a voice finally rescued the disheveled man from his predicament:

"Your victory banquet back then attracted the attention of the entire empire. We were just insignificant participants. It is our honor to be remembered by you."

A plump, black-haired noblewoman walked over, accompanied by her maid. Her red robe, embroidered with gold thread, revealed her full shoulders and arms. She wore a polite smile, and her overly pale skin, which had been exposed to the sunlight for a long time indoors, was now tantalized.

“Nobles as outstanding as you are certainly worthy of my attention, and the facts have proven that my choice was not wrong...isn’t that right?”

Thesoris lowered his voice, and the noblewoman immediately nodded, then reached out and took her husband's arm.

"Your arrival brings glory to the entire city. Please lead your army into the city. We have prepared ample supplies to ensure a smooth journey for you."

“No need for that.” Tersolius shook his head slightly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Let my soldiers set up camp outside the city. I think there is already a piece of land ready for us, so there is no need to disturb the order of the city.”

"Of course, everything is ready... All the citizens of Dalifia are eager to see you, General, and we have prepared a banquet. Please be sure to give Dalifia this opportunity."

Tersolius did not refuse the invitation, or rather, he had planned to do so anyway. He needed to make a big fuss when he returned to the Empire, and the bigger the better. Naturally, he couldn't avoid the cities along the way.

The legion received the order and immediately began to build a temporary camp outside the city. Although it was still sturdy and well-prepared, it was far less rigorous than when marching in the Holsian territory. It only retained the most basic defensive function, and it took much less time. In the blink of an eye, the camp had already taken a rough shape.

Supplies were continuously sent out from the city, filling up the previously mostly empty vehicles and adding many new horse-drawn carriages and livestock. Fresh meat and vegetables were also delivered, eliciting cheers from the crowd.

These battle-hardened, fierce soldiers, though still maintaining order, were excited to have finally reached the town of the Empire.

Although they could not enter the city, the supplies were enough to satisfy them. They didn't even need to prepare firewood themselves. Everyone could rest well in the camp and cook in an iron pot when the time came.

Long marches are extremely arduous, even for the strongest soldiers. Even after setting up camp, there is still much work to be done, keeping them busy until nightfall before they can rest. The next day, they have to get up early to continue their journey. Although they can still endure it, they are naturally very willing to take a break.

The cavalrymen's warhorses needed ample rest. A mixture of eggs, beans, and grains was piled in the mangers, looking even better than what people ate. A lot of salt was added to replenish their strength, and some slaves would cast envious glances as they passed by.

This season is not suitable for warhorses to be deployed. Even with careful breeding, their inherent physical structure means these warhorses are far from reaching their optimal physical condition. However, for some reason, these precious mounts have to be used.